


Fang Blockers

by CantSpeakFae



Series: Once More With Glitter [9]
Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: An island of funny in a sea of angst, M/M, Season 2 AU, Spike only lets him live because he's funny, This is just some comedy to ease all further tension, Xander somehow always gets in trouble
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-04
Updated: 2018-09-10
Packaged: 2019-07-06 23:13:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,052
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15896082
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CantSpeakFae/pseuds/CantSpeakFae
Summary: Alone, without friends or plans, Xander roams the streets of Sunnydale. And runs into someone horribly familiar.





	1. Chapter 1

“Vampires, Vampires, Vampires.”

Xander mutters the word derisively as he strolls through the darkened streets of Sunnydale, unsure of where he’s going, just knowing that “home” isn’t an option for at least another hour. Tony Harris should be asleep by then and he can bypass the drunken rambling portion of the evening and  _ maybe _ even write his name on his assignments to surprise Willow when he asks to copy off of her, tomorrow.

He had plans.

He had  _ good  _ plans.

Bronze with Will and Buff, as usual. Only, both parties had flaked out on him and now he was flying solo. Willow pleaded family game night - a new event in the Rosenberg home as the latest of statistics in her mother’s work stated that family “togetherness” promoted good values into teenagers - and Buffy was, of course, headed to smooch-city with Captain Forehead.

“That's all anyone ever wants to talk about. Since when is it  _ cool _ to be a cigarette smoking, leather jacket wearing, brooding creature of the night? Huh? Sure, Drac-attack there can do a backflip, but I still have a heartbeat. Check and mate.”

“Soddin' WORMS have a heartbeat, mate. No bloody great accomplishment there.”

Xander freezes in place, attention grabbed by the low, British voice that he was beginning to associate with the Billy Idol wannabe that kept lurking around Sunnydale.

See, now, this is why people shouldn’t cancel plans. When plans get canceled, he somehow ends up alone with a  _ vampire _ . But, he can’t let his fear show. He’s not just Buffy’s dopy side-kick, right? He’s his own hero. Or he can be.

Keeping his voice level, he turns to face Spike.

“You know, I could try and dignify that with some kind of clever retort, but I don't have to. You might be the sexy new vampire in town that everyone wants a piece of because you've got the cool hair and nice jacket, but you're not long for Sunnydale. As soon as that new vamp charm wears off, Buffy's gonna kill ya dead. You just wait!”

Oh, yeah. He’s great under pressure.

“It would be bloody difficult for her to KILL me MORE ALIVE, now, wouldn't it?”

Spike steps closer. Out of the shadows. He looks like he’s alone… that’s good news, at least, Xander doesn’t think he can keep up with the demands of thrilling banter when facing down a small army of undead guys.

“Why  _ does _ the Slayer keep you around, Harris? It can't be for your brains, and we know it's not for your looks... Oh. I know why. You're the cannon fodder. Expendable. It's all so clear.”

“I've dusted my fair share of you bumpy forehead freaks, alright? And what's to stop me from doing Buffy a favour and erasing any trace of you from this earth with a Dustbuster, huh?”

Xander says, indignantly, his face turning a little red at the mention of being "cannon fodder".

Spike shifts into game face and stalks closer to the apparently willing blood donor.

“I believe your complete inability to be successful is the main obstacle for ya, Harris. The second being my  _ big _ ,  _ sharp _ fangs, my  _ big _ ,  _ sharp _ appetite, and my  _ big _ ,  _ sharp _ not caring if you die.”

“Hey, hey, hey!”

He takes three steps backwards as Spike starts to move in on him, shoving his hand into the pocket of his jacket and pulling out the cross he's started keeping on him at all times since Buffy'd rolled into town. He holds it out at Spike, trying to keep him away.

Spike rolls his eyes and smacks the cross out of Xander's hand.

“Did it ever occur to you that I might be Jewish? You're such a bigot, Xander Harris.”

“...I…”

Xander blinks. Owlishly.

“I don't know what to do with that.”

“May I suggest...RUN.”

“I'd really, really like to.”   


But he can't. He's still completely dumbfounded, and his legs aren't really working.

Spike stares hard at Xander...then bursts into laughter.

“Hey! You're laughing! And...not eating me. Why are you not eating me?”

Spike doubles over, game face gone, tears forming at the corners of his eyes. “Can't eat you, Harris...you...you'll taste funny!!!”

“Ah-ha! So this is a vampire's true kryptonite. You heard it here first, folks...save your necks by being too pathetic to eat.”

Xander laughs, nervously. He's never made a vampire laugh like this, before. He’s never made anyone laugh like this, before, actually. Usually he gets a pity chuckle or an exasperated eye roll. But this? This is genuine mirth. Go figure. His best audience is the one that wants to kill him. 

“Oh, bloody hell, Harris...I needed that…”

Spike sniffles and dries his eyes with the side of his hand. He lights a cigarette, his Zippo making a satisfying clink as it opens and closes.   
  
“Dru has been such a handful, lately, and you can't imagine the stress.”

The feeling is  _ just _ not coming back to his legs fast enough. He's still just standing there, completely dumbstruck by the casual way that Spike had batted the cross from his hands like a bleach-blonde cat after a ball of yarn, and not having any sense knocked into him by the way that he laughed afterwards. 

And now, as people are wont to do around him, he's talking relationship problems. To  _ him _ . The guy who couldn't get a date if he was the only guy left in Sunnydale. 

“Dru. That's the uh…”

He doesn't want to say psycho. That's definitely the right word for her, but Spike's still scary and he doesn't think he'll get by on the same joke twice.   
  
“...tall, pretty vampire who talks like a British Lullaby? Think one of the books called her your paramour. Funny, I thought that was a band.”

“Huh. That  _is_  a good name for a band...something, I dunno, with a gothic rock sound...maybe a girl singer… But, yeah, that's Drusilla. Tall, pretty, and madder than Alice's hatter. You know, she once made me sit with her and watch paint dry?”

“Paint? Well, was it at least body paint?”

Oh, NYAAAGH. He's gotta learn to think before he speaks. Body paint, itself? Potential hotness factor. The idea of  _ Spike _ applying body paint to his girlfriend? He'll see his own "NYAAAGH!" and raise himself an "EURRRGH!" Oh, unless Spike was painting himself and watching his own paint dry. Wait, why is that better? God, he hopes vampires can't read minds. 

“Or did you two just have yourselves a romantic evening staring at a park bench? Because you know, that still tops math class.”

Spike shrugs and takes another deep drag of his cig.

“It was a wall. Taupe, even. The most boring of colors.  There's no visible difference, did you know that? The only way you know it's dry is to touch it.”   
  
Spike shakes his head with a little laugh.

“She's utterly lost the plot, but I love her. Can't help it. You know what that's like, Harris, to love someone who drives you clear off your trolly?”

Xander rubs the back of his neck, wracking his brains for some kind of example. Truth be told, he's never really "loved" anyone like that. There's Willow, sure, but she's more of a best friend kinda love and she's completely stable, 'cept for the frog fear. Buffy? Well, no. She was another friend. He'd been a little mixed up about his feelings for her. Never worked out.

“No, I guess not.”   
  
He says, finally, figuring that there's no point in lying about it.   
  
“But, on the plus side, you've got an eternity. What's a couple hours staring at paint? I'm sure you do lots of zany vampire things. Terrorizing villages and scaring itty bitty kids?”

Spike grins at the memories Xander's words elicit, and flicks his cigarette butt to the ground.

“Oh, yeah. There was this one time in a little town in Luxembourg...wait.”   
  
He turns towards Xander, the mirth gone from his face.   
  
“Why am I telling you this and not eating you?”

“...Because I'd taste funny?”

Xander says, weakly. Honestly, he's not sure why Spike's telling him any of this, either. This is a weird side to the vampire; the same one that Angel had practically offered him up to on a silver platter the first time they'd had a shown down with him. He'd seemed...scarier, then, in the shadows. Not that he wasn't scary, now, in the darkness of one of the many seedy back streets that Sunnydale has to offer. But it's different, because he doesn't think he's ever had a real conversation with a vampire. Not even with  _ Angel _ . Now there's a man of few words.   
  
“Remember?”

“Oh, yeah, right. Because you're a clown. Well, I'm hungry, and it looks like you've got a pass on being my entree, Harris. Enjoy your new, if probably very short, lease on life. I'm gonna see if the Bronze is still serving.”

“Hey, wait a minute!”

Xander turns, the relief he'd felt when Spike decided that he  _ wasn't _ going to eat him melting away into panic when that doesn't seem to mean that Spike is forgoing any kind of dinner. He stands in place, for a minute, watching him go and trying to stammer through the options.    
  
Option A: He can go home and pretend none of this ever happened...and basically assist offering up one of Sunnydale's hapless residents on a silver platter for Spke.

Option B: He can run real fast and find Buffy...only, there are twelve gothic graveyards in Sunnydale and she's smooching Angel in one of them. By the time he found her, Spike could already be fangs deep in some hapless resident.

Option C: He can follow Spike, try his best to deter him, and risk  _ being _ the hapless resident. 

Well, there's not really any options here at all, is there?   
  
“Aw, man. Wait up!”   
  
He starts to follow after Spike, wondering if this is the stupidest thing he’ll ever do, or just the last.   
  
“You know, I had intentions to go to the Bronze, tonight. Maybe I'll just tag along. Third-wheel it.”   
  
_ Oh, god, he's so going to get eaten. _

Spike groans and wipes his smooth face with his hand.

“Bloody hell, Harris! I knew Slayers have a secret death wish, but I thought all you other Happy Meals with legs rather enjoyed the whole "being alive" thing.”   
  
This turn of events is highly aggravating, to say the least. There's no good way that he can see to shoo this particular fly without him buzzing off to the Slayer, and for one bloody night, he'd like an uncomplicated meal. He groans again in frustration.   
  
“Grrrrrralright, fine. You may tag along. But if you fang block me, so help me..”


	2. Chapter 2

Well, so far, so good. There hasn't been a threat of neck snapping, so he'll consider this a win. But he has  _ no _ comment about the fang-blocking, since he'll have his Xander-patented-charm turned all the way up...and it's been proven that it turns everyone all the way  _ off _ . Should be enough to repel even the most desperate of Bronze flies from Spike's toned body.   
  
“Gee, thanks. Can't wait to spend a night on the town with my good ol' pal Spike.”

“Don't push your luck, Harris...Sunnydale's barely a town, let alone big enough to have a night out on it. If it weren't for the Hellmouth, there'd be nothing going for it at all…”

“Oh, big surprise. Mr. "I only use the night to hunt and terrorize" doesn't know what kind of fun Sunnydale has to offer. Why don'tcha see a movie once in a while, huh? Sunnydale's nightlife is just fine.”

Actually, Xander doesn't know why he's arguing this point. This town bores him too, most of the time. The Bronze is a thing. Sometimes it's even a fun thing, but it's not a solo mission place. And, assuming he's not helping Buffy avert another disaster, that's what he is, this late. Alone. Wandering whenever his Dad kicks him out of the house for the night. But he always manages to find something to do. And he's just a human.   
  
“What's so great about hell, anyway? Are you actually big on that stuff or do you just feel like you're supposed to be?”

“It's not about the literal hell, Harris.”

Spike rolls his eyes and walks a little faster, just to watch the breather struggle to keep up.   
  
“It's the...the Evil  _ energy _ that comes outta the Hellmouth. It's like living on an all you can snort cocaine buffet, if it were the 1980s and you worked in finance or big business.”

Spike laughs.   
  
“Man, I once ate a dude on the stock exchange - right on the NY stock exchange floor - and I didn't sleep for a week, after... I could bloody  _ hear _ colors, the bloke was so coked up.”

Xander mostly takes Spike's rapidly increasing pace in stride, save for the slight wheeze in his voice in his response, the flush of colour in his cheeks, and the screaming, burning feeling in his lungs.

“Evil Energy, huh? Now  _ that’s  _ band name. Seriously, this place is a high for vampires? No wonder there are so many of you...and no wonder you all fall down in a less-than-stellar way after thirty minutes of evil monologuing and three minutes of fighting with Buffy. You're all so "energied up".”   
  
He's mostly just saying that to bug Spike...but actually, maybe there's something to that. Maybe he should pitch the concept to Giles, tomorrow, and earn himself a spot in the "scoobies that contribute" rank rather than the "teenagers who annoy the librarian" list.   
  
“Okay, man, what is  _ with _ the power walking? Is that you how get your legs so toned? Is this a whole group thing? Do demons do Jazzercise?”   
  
Oh, thank god. There's the Bronze. He was starting to think that he was going to fall over.

“Well, I once saw a 600 pound Chirago demon makin' like Yma Sumac...that stays with you...but no, can't say I've ever seen a demon Jazzercise. Sorry, Harris, you'll just have to get material for your "spank bank" elsewhere.”

Spike arrives at the Bronze. He cuts to the head of the line, exchanges a fist bump with the bouncer, and ducks inside the club.   
  
He stands off to the side, in the shadows, and inhales deeply through his nose, savouring the scent of teenage perspiration and desperation.   
  
Finding a snack should require minimal effort.

Xander, meanwhile, doesn’t have the suave sense of self or looks to cut past the line of aggravated teenagers that are standing outside of the Bronze, pushing and shoving to enter the all-ages club, and he gets booted to the back, forced to wait an agonizing ten minutes before he can finally push his way through the door, casting a suspicious look at the Bouncer as he passes. Is he just a dumb human or something beastly and in league with Spike? Matter of a fact, who  _ owns _ the Bronze? Why do they let so many weird things happen here? Now that’s a subject to pitch at the next meeting.

But not to dwell on, now. He scans the crowd, looking for Spike. With that head start, he could already be sweet-talking some sweet sixteen into being his dinner. Stupid, scummy, vampires! Some places use coconut water as a blood plasma surrogate. Why can’t vampires just do their dinner shopping at Whole Foods like the rest of the freaks?

Ah! Is that a familiar head of bleach blond hair? Xander pushes forward.

Spike sees a little blonde wisp of a thing, stirring her cafe au lait with a desultory air about her. He watches her trying not to stare at the door, and a smirk curls a corner of his lips.

“Aw, how horrid. Poor Jenny/Susan/Rebecca seems to have been stood up by the terribly thoughtless Johnny/Brad/Tim. Lucky stars, big bad William will take right good care of her…”   
  
He starts to saunter over to her table. 

It takes a considerable amount of pushing, shoving, and even a little swearing, but Xander somehow manages to worm his way through the crowd and and come out on the other side just as Spike is approaching the table of a somber-looking  girl... a somber-looking girl who perks right up at the sight of a hunk of vampire approaching her table. 

Jeeze, what is it about that guy?    
  
Ahh, no time to ponder. Xander intercepts at the last second, looping his arm around Spike's shoulder - dangerous move - and grins his goofiest grin at him.   
  
“Spike! Buddy ol' pal! I'm so glad to run into you, again! Ah -”   
  
Quick, Xander, think of something that would be off-putting to the naive hopeful girl... something short of you hitting on her, yourself.   
  
“- Amber was starting to worry that you weren't going to show up! But I told her that there was no way you'd stand her up on your six month anniversary. C'mon, she's waiting for ya pal.”   
  
_ Nailed it. _

The blonde girl’s expression turns from "happily interested" to "boy bye" in 2.2 seconds, and she stalks off in a huff towards the bar.

Spike turns slowly to face Xander, murder in his still-human eyes.   
  
“What. The. Hell. Is. WRONG WITH YOU, HARRIS??!?”

“Gee, I guess I'm just opposed to letting vampires murder unsuspecting Sunnydalites. I'm irrational like that.”

Xander pulls back away from him as fast as he can, staring Spike down with his best "Kitchen's Closed" expression, despite being reasonably terrified by the look in his eyes.   
  
“You ever consider switching to Pig's blood? I hear it's a healthy alternative.”

“Pig's blood?” Spike splutters with disgust. “You ever consider switching to a raw, vegan diet? That's also a healthy alternative, you ruddy twit!”

Spike notices that the people around him have noticed his outburst, and realizes his chances of grabbing a quick meal have effectively reduced to zero.   
  
Hangry, he storms out of the Bronze and begins walking in a random direction, leaving Xander staring after him, torn between following and not flirting with death three times in one night. 

Not exactly the satisfying conclusion he was hoping for… but then, he still averted disaster, right?

Just wait until he tells Buffy.


End file.
